Page 99 of Between the Lines

Like the way she doesn’t hide who she is. She is a vivid expression of everything beautiful.

“I love the sound of your laugh,” I whisper, leaning over her to pepper her neck with kisses. Fia doesn’t reply, tracing me with her eyes as I pull the hem of her damp shirt over her head and unclip her bra, dragging it off her.

I kiss both of her breasts gently, and she gasps, arching into me.

“And every curve of your body . . .” I murmur, moving my mouth down her damp, toned stomach, nipping at her hip.

She props herself up on her elbows. “I don’t want you to stop . . . I want everything,” she says with a strained voice, running her hands down my arms.

The words are a key, unlocking what I’ve been holding back. “Everything?”

She nods, lips between teeth. “Give me everything.”

She works on pulling my shorts off, and in moments, my hard length is pressing into her stomach.

Without hesitation, Fia reaches down, stroking me.

“Fia . . .” My eyes roll back and my chest flexes under her soft touch. “Shit.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “The condoms are in my house.”

“I have an IUD, it’s okay.” She nudges my face back towards hers. “I just want to be close to you.”

My voice is strained as I say okay and reach down to pull her hand away from me. Her eyes go wide as I pull her arms up above her head, taking control.

Fia licks her lips, begging me with her eyes to keep going.

Tortuously slow, I take my time to kiss every inch of her skin, until she is melting under me, digging her nails into my back.

Every single line blurred between us as we move as one between the silk sheets, the storm roaring outside.

As I move inside of her, and Fia moans my name, her body shudders around me, and we collapse together, tangled in each other’s limbs.

She presses her mouth gently to my shoulder before closing her eyes, her breathing softening, and it’s then that I realize my heart no longer belongs to me.

But I don’t want it back; I never want to go back to before.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” I start as she lightly traces circles on my chest.

“I’m listening,” she replies sleepily.

“I wish you weren’t moving back so soon. Two weeks feels like a blink,” I say, swallowing down the lump in my throat.

“I know . . . me too,” she replies, her voice muffled by the covers.

There’s a sadness in her voice, one I haven’t heard before, one I didn’t expect. I pull her in tighter to me, and the rain outside turns to a drizzle.

I stare into the darkness—I have to tell her.

Even if it breaks her heart, it’s temporary.

Just like living here always has been.

I have to tell her the truth . . . that in five days, her house will be ready.

“Fia.” I whisper her name, but she doesn’t respond. Her eyes are closed, her face at peace.

I sigh, ruffling my already messy hair, and sink further into the bed. I’m not leaving her tonight, and tomorrow when we have our cookout, I will tell her what Eddie told me today—they are finishing the job early. And next week, I’ll take her to see the house, show her all the things I did for her, and hopefully, it will ease her stress. Hopefully she’ll be excited to be home.

There’s one more truth I need to tell her: that even though she’s moving home, it changes nothing for me.